Empty Skies and Colorless Souls
by pokeking95
Summary: The simple brilliance of a rainbow blazing in the sky intertwined the destinies of six little ponies who would go on to do great things together. But perhaps the rainbow never existed. What then? Without the Rainboom, what would become of the six?


As the Moon and its accompanying night gradually gave way to the break of dawn, the Sun peeked over the horizon, its resplendent rays gently coloring the cumulus foundations of the proud pegasus city with a golden hue. True to its name, Cloudsdale was built from the very clouds themselves, the pinnacle of pegasus history, culture, and engineering. Cascades of condensed vapor and liquid rainbow poured from numerous alcoves hidden within its fluffy clouds and gracefully tumbled the long way down to the earth below, and the traditional architecture of the city heartily welcomed the coming of the new day as the Sun bathed them in its warm early light.

The grand city slowly but surely stirred to life, its inhabitants yawning away the last dregs of sleep and drowsily flying off to begin the day anew. All around the city, the pegasi were like busy little bees, darting here, there, and everywhere as they went off to open up their businesses and revive the machinery of their weather factories. All the while, the Sun continued its upward ascent through the morning sky.

It was quite a beautiful sight, and a little pegasus filly named Rainbow Dash watched it all.

As was her daily routine, she had watched it all with rapt attention from behind the window of her room at Cloudsdale Children's Hospital. Every morning, before Princess Celestia lowered the Moon and raised the Sun, Rainbow Dash would always wake up and hurry over to the window, waiting for the day to start and her hometown to wake itself up. It was something she never failed to do, much like how a well-oiled machine could always be relied upon to perform its function.

The little pegasus filly continued to stare, seeing the Sun rise ever higher and the city grow increasingly lively. In particular, she watched the other pegasi fly through the air, free as the wind that carried them, their powerful wings allowing them to soar and defy the fettering hold of gravity with each practiced flap. Looking a little bit harder, in the distance she could also see fillies and colts around her age beginning their morning practice at a summer flight camp, ready to prove what it means to be a flier.

Oh, how little Rainbow Dash hated them so.

Feeling the telltale pinpricks of small, frustrated tears forming in the corner of her eyes, the small filly finally looked away. Letting her glare simmer down, Rainbow Dash slumped back from the window, unwilling to watch the bustling scene any longer and simply focused on her reflection cast into the glass. Although it was not the first time she examined her body, when Rainbow Dash looked at herself at that moment she could not hold back the look of shame that flashed across her face as she beheld her pathetic form.

In the reflection, she saw a tiny, scrawny filly, and the warring years of disease had visibly taken its toll on her. Her pale cerulean body was too thin and too frail than what it should be. The prismatic mane that was her namesake was scruffy and untamed, the myriad of colors dull to match the forlorn expression on her face. Wretched cerise eyes despondently stared back, far too old and weary for a foal that did not even have her cutie mark. Pitifully small wings unfurled slowly and painfully from where they were usually folded, the feathers as unkempt and unhealthy as ever despite whatever attempt at preening they had been subjected to. They were weak and fragile, certainly unable to hold even her sadly diminished body weight for more than a few seconds without causing her to nearly collapse from overexertion. Rainbow Dash's mirror image mocked her so, but she managed to let her mind wander nonetheless.

The four walls of her hospital room in Cloudsdale Children's Hospital, cold and unfeeling and sterile, were all the filly had known for the past couple of years. Like a bird forever trapped within a cage too small, Rainbow Dash yearned to break free—to fly free—but she knew she could not. She had learned that her condition was simply too precarious to chance living away from the hospital. Her father tried to visit her as much as possible, but the visits had lately become more and more infrequent as the mounting hospital bills demanded he work longer and harder hours.

Rainbow Dash oftentimes wondered what it felt to be healthy—to be normal. How would it feel to be able to fly amongst the wind and above the clouds? What would her cutie mark be? What would it be like to live a life without the illness that had been her lifelong companion?

How would it feel to have friends?

She still did not know. Even today, after so long in the hospital, Rainbow Dash was still lonely. The hospital staff was friendly enough, and the other patients—some her own age—had outstretched their own hooves in a placating gesture of hope and friendship.

But the little filly rejected them all. Friends did not matter. She did not need them, for they would not help her get better, and if they did not help her get better then there was no point in letting them into her life. Time and time again, she refused their inconsequential attempts to befriend her, and eventually they just left her alone altogether. She would tolerate the various doctors and nurses that would always be checking up on her, giving her painful shots, and administering her awful medicine, but beyond that she wanted nothing to do with the hospital.

To her, loneliness was a small price to pay for the chance to finally pursue her dreams.

Rainbow Dash may be a sickly foal, but she can—and will—recover by herself. She knew she could do it. She will succeed. One day, she will know what it means to be healthy, and on that day she will leave the hospital and never look back.

On that day, she will fly.

And that day may be today.

A sudden spark of determination ignited in her tired eyes, Rainbow Dash could not help but be overcome by a sense of newfound self-confidence that urged her to simply try—challenge the reality that condemned her to a hospital bed. She looked up and out the window once more, and she saw the motherly embrace of the Sun beckoning her to fly—fly and join her brethren at last in the freedom of the sky.

For the first time in a long time, Rainbow Dash smiled.

Readying herself, she stretched her diminutive wings out as much as she could, ignoring how they already started to ache. She closed her eyes in concentration, allowing only her overwhelming desire to take wing to direct her senses. At her command, her wings flapped slowly, at first just one small thrust per second or so, initially resistant to the foreign motion. However, the movements gradually grew stronger and faster, eventually almost like buzzing as she felt herself being lifted, her hooves no longer making contact with the floor.

She was doing it! She was flying!

But Rainbow Dash was not even a dozen hoof-lengths above the floor, and she was already panting from the exertion. She tried to hold it out as long as possible, but already she could feel herself starting to fall. Lungs burning, she desperately pushed herself as far as she could go, gritting her teeth and almost crying out in pain as her poor, abused wings screamed out in protest. She managed to hold herself aloft for a few seconds more, but gravity was far too cruel and merciless.

Rainbow Dash hit the floor with a dull thud, knocking the wind out of her and torturing her feeble, battered body. She coughed harshly and wheezed pitifully, feebly gasping for air, almost passing out. On and on she kept coughing, the fit lasting for almost a full excruciating minute, but that was nothing compared to the almost audible shattering of her hope and ambitions, the world beyond her window brutally taunting her as she lay there a failure.

Failure.

That word resounded in her mind, far more painful than her illness or any physical injury inflicted upon her body. Try as hard as she might, she could not stop the hot tears from flowing down her bony cheeks as she remained grounded, the pegasi outside free and unaware of the sickly little filly who yearned to fly more than anything else.

The tiny pegasus had curled into a tiny ball on the unfeeling floor as her choked breaths eventually gave way to heaving sobs. She did not know how long she had been crying, but when the tears finally began to subside she reluctantly stole a small glance at the wall clock. The time read three minutes before eight o'clock. Sniffling, she felt a headache coming on, disorienting her slightly.

She whimpered miserably, automatically realizing what she would have to endure next.

Rainbow Dash wiped away the last of her tears with a shaking hoof. She turned away from the window, ignoring the mocking and jeering of the unreachable sky behind her, and slowly began staggering back to her bed, steadfastly disregarding the intensifying dizziness and the agony in her wings. After some slight difficulty, she groaned achingly as she crawled back under her covers, cocooning herself beneath layers of linen as she anxiously waited for her nurse to bring her her medicine. She inwardly winced at the thought, just like she always did.

The various medicines she had to take were yucky and expensive, and there were far too many of them for her liking. Even after going through countless prescriptions every single day for the past couple of years, the pegasus had never gotten used to them, nor did she think she ever would, holding back disgusted expressions at every dose of medication that entered her system.

Regardless of how she felt, Rainbow Dash braced herself once more as she heard the nurse open the door.

After all, she could not become a Wonderbolt if she did not take her medicine.


End file.
